


Higher, Faster, Stronger

by snack_size



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Olympics, Alternate Universe - Sports, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-11 10:13:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snack_size/pseuds/snack_size
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raleigh is headed into the Olympics having just won the U.S. pairs skating national title with his new partner, Mako. Too bad he's going to have to keep track of douchebag brother, one of the forwards on the hockey team, and manage all of the media attention that a misunderstood gift shines on he and Mako.</p><p>As competition intensifies and the world is riveted by a bulldog named Max, Raleigh realizes that there are certain advantages to having a brother like Yancy Becket when you're trying to get the spotlight off yourself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to play around with ridiculous, douchebag Yancy for some time. I base it solely on that "Hey, kid. Don't get cocky" comment and smile that he gives Raleigh - you just _know_ who the cocky one is.
> 
> Oh, and I couldn't have written this without Achilleees and Toast, who helped with brainstorming all of the ridiculousness.

“The U.S. has an incredibly strong team this Olympics, with a lot of athletes we’re looking forward to watching, right Bob?”

“Absolutely, and I don’t think there is a more compelling story than that of the Becket Brothers, Raleigh and Yancy - one, a forward on the U.S. Hockey Team, the other, the recently crowned national champion in pairs skating along with partner Mako Mori-”

“Oh, fuck’s sake, turn it off,” Raleigh groaned. “I do not need-”

Mako hit the television in the passenger bay of the cab, turning on financial news.

“You know it’s going to have to happen,” Stacker said from the seat facing them. “You are not leaving Sochi without Bob Costas interviewing you.”

“Uh,” said Raleigh. “So, Yancy, how was it that you became the hockey player in the family? Well, Bob, wouldn’t do for me to figure skate - I’d be Fancy Yancy before you knew it!”

“That is a very good Yancy impersonation,” Mako said.

“Why agree to room with him, if you feel-” Stacker began.

“To keep a fucking eye on him! Someone has to be responsible,” Raleigh said. “You know what happens at the Olympics. Sex. So, so, much sex, and…” Raleigh shook his head, eyes wide. Mako did her best to avert her gaze from their coach. “Do you know what kind of path of destruction he carved in Vancouver?”

Stacker considered this. “I don’t really follow-”

“There are many athletes quite eager to make his reacquintence,” Mako said. “Have you got our floormates?”

“Oh, yes,” Stacker said, and pulled a folder out of his briefcase. “You and Yancy, and then Mako and Kristen - you’ll be the only U.S. athletes, actually, you’re in one of the smaller dorms. Uh, the Chinese bobsledders-”

“The triplets and their brother?” Raleigh asked.

“Mmm,” said Stacker. “Two Dutch speed skaters, a German luge pair, Geiszler and Gottlieb, looks like...some Russians, Sasha Kaidanovsky, she’s a biathlete, and her teammate Marina Sokoloff, a hockey player, Aleksis Kaidanovsky-”

“Ah, he’s a nice guy,” Raleigh said. He and Yancy had played for two years together on the Canucks - Yancy would be happy to hear he was on their floor.

“And...oh.”

“Oh?” Mako asked.

“The Aussie snowboarder, Chuck Hansen, and another snowboarder, Kirk Welland-”

“Hansen is a raging douchebag,” Raleigh said. “Oh, no.”

“Yes,” Mako said. Stacker nodded. He did not seem to understand why that mattered.

Raleigh shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “You know Yancy is gonna try to fuck him.” Mako pat his thigh consolingly.

* * *

“There’s a dog.”

These were the first words that greeted Raleigh on his arrival to the Olympics dorm. Yancy and them U.S. hockey team had already been in Sochi for a few days, trying to get used to the larger European sized ice.

“What?”

“There. Is. A. Dog. Did your ears pop on the flight?” Yancy asked. He poked his head out of their room and grinned at Raleigh.

“Where is there a dog?”

“On our floor,” Yancy said. “I saw him.”

Raleigh squeezed his eyes shut and then carried his duffle bag into the room. Yancy had already spread his shit all over the place and had pushed his bed against the window. Raleigh sighed - he was used to this. He was the younger brother.

“They don’t allow dogs-” Raleigh said, just as Yancy simultaneously shouted.

“Dog,” he pointed, and Raleigh was surprised to see he was right as a bulldog waddled down the hall in [one of those red vests that service animals typically wore.](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PLMGb3T-ZTw/TlThvPTZbLI/AAAAAAAABMg/ZrWHRrMBXnY/s1600/Therapy%2Bdog%2BGracie.jpg)

“Oi, Max, get back over here!” said an Australian, and Raleigh swallowed. _Not yet,_ he thought. He had wanted one, two days to settle in before…

The dog - Max - wandered into their room, the little stump on his ass wiggling as he assessed the two of them. Raleigh bent down and held a hand out to him. The dog licked it eagerly.

Thankfully, not Chuck Hansen poked his head in the door. “Max, need to behave better if you’re going to be an actual helper dog,” he said. “Sorry about that. Herc Hansen.”

Raleigh offered his non-slimed hand to him, though he supposed Herc was probably used to it. “Raleigh Becket. This is-”

“Yancy,” said Herc. “Just saw a thing on you boys on television.”

“Well,” said Yancy, also offering his hand. “Hopefully it was charitable.” Herc narrowed his eyes at this and then smiled at Raleigh.

“Got tickets to your long skate, actually,” Herc said.

“Figure skating fan?” Yancy asked, and Herc narrowed his eyes at him again and nodded his head.

“It will be nice to have you there,” Raleigh said, and smiled at Herc.

“C’mon, Max,” said Herc. He nodded his head as he exited.

“Dog,” said Yancy, and he nodded.

“Did you get hit in the head already?” Raleigh asked.

Yancy rolled over and pouted before he pulled out his iPad. “Have you seen this yet?” he asked. Raleigh leaned in, then pressed his lips together when he saw the title card identifying it as one of NBC’s in-depth Olympic previews and then he and Mako skating, doing an intricate throw where Raleigh barely guided her to the ice.

“The pair of Becket and Mori easily pull gasps from the crowd,” said Scott Hamilton, “and with good reason. They’re the combination of athleticism, artistry, and grace that this sport is about - and it was is remarkable that they have only been skating together for one year.”

The visual shifted to Mako with her former partner. “When Daniel Chen injured his knee it looked like Mori’s Olympic hopes were dashed. But she, along with her coach and mentor, Stacker Pentecost, took the injury as an opportunity - neither has said it out loud, but many of us who have watched this sport for years had always thought Mori capable of more. They just had to find a partner who could compliment her.”

“Yancy, I know how this goes-” Raleigh protested, but Yancy put a finger to his own lips and raised his eyebrows at Raleigh.

“Raleigh Becket was an usual choice - the former world champion, he had finished fourth at Nationals leading up to Vancouver with his partner, Elise McGinnis, and had been skating without a partner for almost six months before Mori approached him.”

“The pair closed themselves off until Nationals, practicing in Becket’s hometown of Anchorage to keep their focus and develop as a team.”

Stacker’s face filled the screen. “The level of compatibility between them was evident initially - and they compliment each other. They’re both hard workers. I knew we had found something great.”

_You lying liar who lies,_ Raleigh thought, but still, it added to their narrative - and that was what part of this was about. You weren’t going to get the sponsorship dollars, the invitations to Olympians on ice, unless people liked you.

Their first two weeks of skating together had been a bit of a disaster - both he and Mako had muscle memory from their previous partners and, as much as the flow was there, this feeling of connection, they had to get past everything they had known for so long and adapt to each other. They’d been determined, though. Raleigh knew when he met Mako that she was going to be his partner.

Once they’d clicked - it had been perfection. It was almost like silence, he didn’t have to think. They moved as one.

“Raleigh, pay attention, this is my favorite part,” Yancy said.

He’d missed their triumph at nationals and now the announcer was talking about the high expectations in Sochi. “Traditionally the Russian pairs are the ones to beat, and this year the Canadian team of Whitoff and Brinley are superb - so the addition of Becket and Mori only makes the competition that much more interesting. And we couldn’t but notice that, arriving in Sochi, Mako Mori sported a telling accessory…” The camera cut to the two of them getting out of their cab at the athletes village, and there was the ring that he had got Mako as a sort of _thanks for putting up with my used-up, washed-out ass_ present. “Looks like Becket and Mori have only gotten closer - and we’re hoping to see how this new level of connection influences their skating.”

“You should have told me, bro!” Yancy said.

“I - what?” Raleigh said.

“Oh, fuck, Rals - you dumbass. It’s a diamond ring.”

“April is Mako’s birth month,” Raleigh said, blinking. “That is her birthstone.”

“And she’s wearing it on her left finger,” Yancy pointed out. He scrolled back and froze the shot they had got of Mako. Raleigh held up his hands and then turned his body so he was in the same position Mako had been in and-

“Oh, shit,” he said.

“Congrats!” said Yancy, and slapped him on the back.

“I am so fucked,” Raleigh replied.

“More like you are not going to get fucked,” Yancy said. He was grinning. “Look at you! You are going to be America’s darling.”

Raleigh buried his head in his hands and groaned.

* * *

“Met the Beckets,” Herc said, Max trotting in the room behind him. Chuck turned his head slightly, not sure why his father thought this was important information for him to know. “Seem like nice lads.”

“Great,” said Chuck. “Certainly don’t need some American wankers down the hall.” He slid his hand down Max’s head and then scrunched his ears. Max wagged his tail. “He looks like a dumbass in the vest, though.”

“Yeah, well, not gonna get him around otherwise,” Herc said.

Chuck shook his head. _Seizure dog._ Well, after his father tried to be one of Australia’s first Olympic freestyle aerial skiers and all of the times he landed on his head, no one was going to doubt that there might be some brain damage.

“You need to hustle, anyway. Team’s headed up to the venue,” Herc said.

Chuck closed his eyes and sighed. There was a reason that he did snowboarding - he was not really a team player. But now he had to tow the line. There were sixty of them on the Australian team, most snowboarders or freestyle skiiers.

“Yeah,” he said. He grabbed his hat and tugged it on his head. “C’mon, Max, let’s go and inspect the half pipe, yeah?” Max wiggled his tail and Chuck grinned at him, pretty sure that after six years Max understood what half pipe meant - that dad was going to go and be awesome.

He followed Herc out into the hallway. Max immediately trotted ahead and matched Herc’s gait. Chuck wasn’t as motivated and he slumped behind him - and, because of that, he nearly walked straight into a petite woman with a furious look on her face. “Oi, sorry, didn’t see-”

Her face instantly changed and she looked contrite before she met his eyes. “My apologies,” she said. “It was my fault. I was not paying attention.”

Chuck wasn’t sure how to handle this - he knew he she was, now that he saw her face. There were few people in Sochi, he imagined, who didn’t know who Mako Mori was. She and her partner had even been all over Australian television. “That’s all right,” he said. “Um, I’m Chuck.”

It seemed to be the polite thing to do, at least. “Mako,” she said. “We are neighbors, I believe. I am there with Kristen Carraway. And, unfortunately, I need to go and speak with my partner.”

Chuck nodded and then noticed something sparkle on her left hand - _oh, well then,_ he thought, because he had definitely had Raleigh Becket on the list of people that he would consider getting it on with over the course of Olympics. Mostly because his ass looked really good in his skating pants - but did you need more motivation than that? Didn’t really matter, though, if the stories were true there would be plenty of people to engage with.

“Sure, see you around,” he said, and adjusted his hat.


	2. Chapter 2

“This is not a good thing,” Mako said. She crossed her arms.

Her sensei’s look said otherwise. She could actually see him calculating the endorsement deals and the type of exposure that they were going to get.

“I am so stupid,” Raleigh said.

“I was the one to put it on that hand,” Mako replied.

“Because your right one is a little swollen, though,” Raleigh replied. Mako nodded. The sprain had happened two weeks ago when she caught the ice wrong from the throw triple axel they were hoping to debut in their long program. _Go big or go home,_ Mako said.

“I think-” Stacker began.

“I am not going to pretend to be engaged him!” Mako said. Raleigh pouted and she sighed and put a hand on his thigh. “You are...nevermind.” Raleigh grinned at her - the little shit. Every now and again he did something like this to prove that he and Yancy had actually grown up together.

“I think you should be coy,” said Stacker. “Talk about how you want people to respect your privacy as you prepare for the event...and then, after...you’re happy, everything is great, keep the ring on...no one will be paying attention in two, three weeks.”

“Except for the real skating fans,” Mako said. “The blogs - you have seen them. They are-”

“They write fiction about me getting spit-roasted by the Russians,” Raleigh said. Mako sighed.

“I cannot believe you are endorsing this,” she said.

“They give the lady one a strap-on,” Raleigh added. Stacker shook his head and ignored him.

“I didn’t put the ring on your finger,” Stacker replied. “But if it’s going to upset you so much it will affect your performance-”

Mako narrowed her eyes at him. That was clearly a challenge - and this was why Stacker had been her coach and choreographer since she was thirteen. He knew how to get her ready to compete and in the mindset that she needed. “We will see how this goes,” she said.

“I’m really-”

She stopped Raleigh by putting her hand on his thigh again. “It is fine,” she said. “We must concentrate on our program for the pairs competition. And the opening ceremonies. We will go from there.”

Raleigh nodded his head - she knew that he understood, as well. This might be the only Olympics they qualified for and just as they wanted to capitalize on it by being as daring as possible with their choreography, they also wanted to capitalize on the other possibilities they were afforded.

Stacker stepped outside, leaving the two of them together. Raleigh sighed and put his head on Mako’s shoulder. “We were both pretty oblivious, huh?” he said.

“Yes,” she replied, and she sighed. “I suppose there will just be a little bit more of a media shitstorm than expected.”

* * *

“Your preparation? Preparation? That is one of the most useless ideas I have ever heard, Newton, and trust me, being your partner has exposed me to a bevy of-”

“Oh, shut it! There is actual science to back this up! I have a degree, remember-”

“An American degree!”

“How does that - it’s from Stanford, and I’d like to see-”

“You are a pneumatic...twat!” Then the voice switched over to a different, more guttural language.

“Aw, they switched to German,” Yancy said, and frowned.

“I don’t get it,” Raleigh said, laying back on his bed and reaching for his headset. “Don’t they like - the one with the bad haircut like lays on top of the little tattooed one, right?”

“Correct,” said Yancy.

“Who even - like, oh, let’s go down this tube of solid ice on a little s led - oh, hey, you know what would be better? With someone’s ass on top of my cock!”

“It does tend to make most things better, to be fair,” Yancy said. He had a wolfish grin.

Raleigh rolled his eyes. “You are going to get yourself in trouble-”

“That’s the plan, bro,” Yancy said. The shouting from the next room intensified and he rolled his eyes and thumped his hand against the wall. “Hey! Some of us are trying to sleep! Just get it over with and fuck each other!”

“We are most certainly not-”

“Dude! These walls really are thin!” Yancy was pretty sure that was Newton - or, as Raleigh called him, the little tattooed one.

Yancy rolled his eyes and reached for his headphones.

* * *

“And here we’ve got the sixty-member strong Australian delegation entering the arena,” the NBC announcer said.

“Make that sixty-one!” said the female commentator, and the camera zoomed into Max, walking next to Herc with a green vest on. It matched the lame ass outfits they’d had to wear for the opening ceremonies perfectly. Worse, Herc had tied the hat around his head that someone had made that matched Chuck’s. The two huge pompoms bobbed atop Max’s head as he waddled. “That’s Max, who is snowboarding coach Herc Hansen’s service dog, and isn’t he just adorable in his team regalia?”

“He’s also wearing a replica of Chuck Hansen’s notorious hat - the snowboarder has been wearing one since he started competing at the age of fifteen.” Max’s tongue lolled out of his mouth. “He looks really happy to be there,” said the male announcer. “He’s already a fan favorite around Sochi - just about the friendliest bulldog you could ever happen to meet..”

“Of course,” said the female announcer, “he is a service animal, so it’s important to keep in mind he is here to do a job.”

“Fucking hell,” said Chuck, as Herc grinned and rewound the footage again to watch as Max got his moment in the sun. “How many times are you going to fucking watch that?”

“Look at him,” said Herc. “So proud.”

Chuck closed his eyes and looked down at Max, who was currently snoring at his feet as they took the trip from the athletes village into the fucking Caucaus mountains - where there were, apparently, actual fucking Cossacks still roaming around on horseback ready to take people’s heads off with their swords or whatever it was Cossacks did. This had freaked Chuck out more than the terrorist threats. He was not sure why other people did not feel the same way.

“Oh, hey,” Herc said, dragging his finger along his iPad. “Pairs skating preview for the team event. Look at them.”

Chuck leaned his head over to see Becket and Mori - he really didn’t care about figure skating, but he figured he should see what all the fuss was about. Both of them picked up speed quickly and their first jump together was effortless. “You do not see too many pairs with a triple lutz,” said the commentator. “Especially not first off in the program, but that is what is so magical about these two, the combination of strength and technical ability and romance…”

“Oh, there we go,” said Chuck, though his eyes did widen a bit as Becket dropped down and it looked like Mori was only about an inch above the ice for the death spiral.

“Yeah, poor kids,” said Herc. “No announcement, though if she wanted to keep it private she shoulda made sure to wear gloves or something - right, Max?” He reached down and pet Max’s head.

Maybe he did bump his head a few too many times, Chuck thought. Maybe actually having Max as a service dog wasn’t a bad idea.

* * *

Yancy was bored. On the one hand, he was sort of glad that they hadn’t made them all live in the dorms together like they had in Vancouver - he spent enough time with hockey players, really, and it had made certain parts of his Olympic experience a bit more difficult to negotiate. On the other hand, there was usually a constant source of entertainment. But with Raleigh off doing team skating tonight, it left him with his computer, a really weird picture of two cartoon tigers holding hands on the wall and...that was about it, really.

He knew he should watch his little brother, but - he was going to be in the stands for the long program, and that was when the medal was really going to mean something.

Yancy sighed, and then turned his head as a soft thumping sound echoed down the hall and then a tennis ball rolled into his room.

Max, Australia’s Most Famous Olympian, wandered in after the ball and soon became more interested in smelling the socks and t-shirt Yancy had left on the floor. “Oh, no, dog,” Yancy said. “Those are gross - don’t pick that up, hey-”

When Chuck Hansen wandered in he was tugging at the sock in Max’s mouth. The bulldog seemed to be really enjoying himself, vigorously wagging his tail as Yancy tried to extract his lucky left sock. “Max, no,” Chuck said.

Max whined and disgorged the sock - Yancy looked down at it and wondered if nearly getting eaten was going to make a difference in the superstitious properties he absolutely did not believe in. “Oi, you’re Yancy, right?” Chuck asked.

He stood, only then realizing that he was in boxer briefs and a tight fitting undershirt. Chuck was wearing a baggy hoodie and sweatpants, but Yancy could still see the broad line of his shoulders. Plus sweat pants always did great things for guys with asses like Hansen’s - full and muscular from all the snowboarding.

Yancy grinned at him. Kid was twenty-one, he remembered reading, and it was his first Olympics. Plus he remembered his voice echoing down the hall last night - _The fuck we got a bowl of condoms for?_

Chuck was definitely cataloguing how various parts of Yancy looked, and Yancy waited as his eyes finally made it up to his face. He was blushing, just slightly. Adorable. “You’re not one of those guys who’s putting off sex until after you compete, are you?” Yancy asked.

“People do that?” Chuck asked. Yancy arched an eyebrow and Chuck shook his head, then looked back down to where Yancy’s cock was in his boxer briefs.

“Close the door,” Yancy said. He hoped the little German bastards were trying to visualize their run or something next door.

“Oi, let me take care of Max,” Chuck said - and he gave Yancy a look, like he was some kind of sex predator for not considering the dog.

Yancy tugged his shirt off while Chuck took Max down the hall and spread himself out on the bed for when Chuck came back. He grinned at Chuck when he opened the door and then quickly locked it behind him.

“Thought hockey players were supposed to be built,” Chuck said, turning his head slightly.

Oh, you bitch, Yancy thought.

“I’d think your ass wouldn’t be so fat, all the snowboarding you do,” Yancy replied.

Chuck pressed his lips together and then gave him a large, wolfish grin. Then he removed the hoodie he was wearing and stepped over to the sad, single bed that Yancy was sprawled across. He had been tempted to push Raleigh’s bed together with his, but that would have driven him up the wall. And Yancy didn’t want to do that until after his competition.

They kissed, hard and brutal, a little too much teeth and not enough tongue. It went with Yancy’s assessment of the kid, and he couldn’t wait to get his cock in that sweet, round ass of his. He grasped at Chuck’s hair and tugged, pulled him a little closer to make the kiss go a bit smoother. Chuck put a hand on his cock and grasped it, hard.

The bed was not going to be tenable, so Yancy grabbed his duvet - it, of course, appeared to be queen sized - and dragged it onto the floor. Chuck followed eagerly, taking a pillow down with him. Yancy tugged his briefs off and grasped him, roughly. “Aren’t you a big boy, Hansen?” he drawled.

“Fuck,” Chuck muttered, and he pulled Yancy on top of him and they rubbed their cocks together. “You have fucking callouses,” he said, replacing Yancy’s hand with his own.

Chuck felt good against him, thick, muscular, and Yancy had to dig his fingers into that ass of his. His hand moved over the tip of his cock and then he focused there, jacking them both fast and smooth. “Yeah, that’s good,” Yancy said.

He reached and grabbed some lube to slide things along better and Chuck held out a hand and complied. Callouses or not, though, Yancy was going to move things along - so he slicked his own fingers and reached behind and searched for Chuck’s hole. “Hey!” Chuck said, and he pulled up a bit and stared down at Yancy with a scowl. “What makes you think you’re putting your dick in my ass?”

Yancy blinked once, twice, and then turned his head. “Well, I assumed that was the idea. Someone’s dick has to go in someone’s ass.”

“Yeah, my dick in that ass of yours,” Chuck said. “Everything they said about you skaters is true…” he added, which Yancy sort of appreciated.

“Presumptuous-”

“Well, we seem to be at an impasse,” Chuck said, a little sadly.

“What, you want to fucking arm wrestle for it?”

Chuck’s grin broadened as he looked down at Yancy and then he nodded his head. Fine with Yancy. Not like the kid was likely to have any upper body strength.

He pulled Raleigh’s chair over to his desk and the two of them arranged themselves. And, fuck, he was never going to be able to keep a straight face when Raleigh sat down next, what with Hansen sitting there, cock red and hard against his stomach as he set his arm on the table. “We do one, two, three, go,” Chuck said.

“Fine with me,” Yancy said. The grain of the chairs was not fine and he was afraid his balls were going to get a splinter at some point.

They balanced each other for a long time, moving back and forth an inch, but pretty fucking evenly matched - Yancy found himself watching Chuck’s biceps more than he should have. Where had he got those from? Yancy’s arm began to strain, slightly, and he didn’t quite have the right angle. “Fuck!” he said, as Chuck took advantage and slammed his arm down against the desk.

“There it is,” Chuck murmured, and next thing Yancy knew he was sprawled out on his back with Chuck over him again, that gorgeous grin back on his face.

Yancy scowled - though, objectively, this wasn’t the worse thing to happen to him. “Had to preserve my stick hand,” he said.

“Whatever you say,” Chuck replied.

He opened him quickly, pushing Yancy’s legs back and sliding his fingers in and out of him as Yancy groaned around him. It had been too long, really. Maybe he shouldn’t have been such a dick about this - but then, again, where was the fun in it?

Also, his assessment that Chuck was something of a blushing virgin - definitely inaccurate. Which, considering his position, was fine with him.

“You gonna use your cock or what?” Yancy asked, even though he wasn’t quite loose.

“If you want,” Chuck said. He reached to the desk for a condom and Yancy watched as he slicked himself. He was thick, built, and if anyone had stopped in and caught the two of them they probably would have thought Chuck was the hockey player and Yancy the snowboarder. Coach was always on him about adding weight. Did not help his figure skating brother looked heftier than he did.

These thoughts dissipated when Chuck dipped into him, slow at first and then thrusting hard and opening him with his cock. Yancy wrapped his legs around him for leverage and worked his ass against him, wanting that tight, hot feeling deeper. “Fuck!” Chuck said. “You feel good, Becket, that’s - fuck!”

He fucked him slowly and Yancy pulled him closer, working his hips with Chuck’s rhythm and squeezing his ass around him when he got deep. “Feels so fucking good, Chuck,” Yancy said, then Chuck pushed his legs back and- “Yes, fuck, there! Harder!”

Chuck at least followed directions well and they established a hard, strong rhythm where his cock hit Yancy’s prostate with each stroke, in and out. “Yeah, Becket? That’s - fuck! Uh, that’s good!” Yancy put his hand on his cock, signalling, hopefully, he was close. Chuck was pulling him closer and closer with each stroke.

Then Chuck leaned down and kissed him, mouth warm and sloppy as he thrust into him. Harder. Faster. Higher. Or whatever the fuck the slogan was. “Yeah, so - yeah, fuck, like - fuck!” Yancy said, need settling around his cock and deep in his balls.

Then he came, tossing his head back against the duvet and groaning as he splashed over his hand. Chuck slid down to his neck and sucked, slightly, fucking Yancy straight through it and then into him as he was loose. “Fuck, that’s so good,” Chuck said, and then he made this really uncharacteristic soft noise as he came himself. “Fuck, mate.”

He slid out quickly and knotted and tied the condom. It went well wide of the trashcan, though. “Really?”

Chuck shrugged and then flopped down alongside Yancy. “M’not trying to score any goals around here,” he said.

“Fair enough.”

Chuck turned and gave him a slight smile before he clapped him on the shoulder and stood up. “Maybe next time I’ll think about letting you fuck me, yeah?”

“Sure,” Yancy said, and he propped himself up on his elbows. Not bad for a first encounter, actually - they hadn’t worked against each other. Chuck had a decent sized cock and knew what to do with it. “When’s your run?”

“Qualifiers on the 11th,” Chuck said. “You?”

“First game isn’t until the 13th,” Yancy said. Chuck nodded.

“Thanks, Yancy,” he said, when he got his hand on the door knob. “Needed that.” Yancy nodded and then flopped back onto the duvet. Definitely would fuck again.

Too bad the kid had left. He glanced at his watch - oh, well. Turned out he could watch Raleigh’s pairs performance anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I know about snowboarding comes from watching it on NBC, so hopefully it doesn't sound too stupid here.

“I’m here with Raleigh Becket and Mako Mori - how does it feel, winning a bronze medal in the first team figure skating competition?”

“We are very proud,” Mako said. “We are glad to have been able to have this experience with our teammates-”

“What about you, Raleigh? Happy to be back on the ice and successful?” Mako clearly narrowed her eyes at the reporter as Raleigh gave her one of his big, sincere smiles.

“Absolutely,” he said. “I would never have imagined, a year ago, that I would be skating in the Olympics. I’m just in awe of the experience and I’m trying to take it day by day.” He smiled at the camera before NBC cut back to the announcers.

“See?” Stacker said, after they watched the clip. “Now how hard was that?”

“The Canadians were more direct,” Mako said. She raised her eyebrows at Stacker and he opened the clip on the laptop.

“You two skated with such passion tonight,” said the Canadian commentator. “How happy are you with this result?”

“We’re very happy,” Raleigh said. “It’s wonderful to win a medal with our teammates - such a great experience.”

“Of course, now you’re more focused on something gold, right?” she asked. Her gaze traveled down to Mako's left hand.

“We endeavor to do our best in the individual competition,” Mako replied while Raleigh visibly looked like he was dying inside.

“The BBC commentator is very keen, but Mako ran away from him,” Raleigh added to Stacker after he turned the footage off.

“I did not - I needed to speak with-”

“You totally bolted,” Raleigh said, and gave her a smug smile.

“We have the short program to focus on,” Stacker said. Raleigh considered this and then nodded his head - at least Stacker was putting off most of his planned media manipulation for after they had actually skated. Raleigh wasn’t going to admit it out loud - but he was going to be glad when it was over. His stomach was in knots and even though he knew that he and Mako had it together he could only think of him and Elise and how he had dropped her-

Mako pulled him out of the thought by gently resting her foot against his. “We have another medal to win,” she said.

Raleigh nodded his head.

He was exhausted when they got back and was more than relieved to find that Yancy was actually asleep. He had expected to walk in on him doing - god knows what, really. He’d only heard about Vancouver.

“Hey, Yance,” he said. Yancy was a light sleeper and Raleigh didn’t want to startle him.

“Did good tonight, kid,” Yancy muttered. “No throw quad Salchow?”

“Decided to save that,” Raleigh said, stepping inside and not turning on the lights. He kicked his shoes off and walked towards his bed- “The fuck?” Something had exploded when he stepped on it, squirting onto his other foot. “Please tell me that is not-”

“Oh, yeah, forgot about that,” Yancy mumbled. Raleigh turned the light on even though he did not want to.

“I hate you,” he said. “Please tell me this is at least yours-”

“Nope!” Yancy said, a little a happy and now definitely awake.

“Aw, Christ, you fucked him, didn’t you?” Raleigh asked.

“You act like you know who-”

“Chuck Hansen.” Yancy pressed his lips together and gave him a slightly guilty look. “Like you don’t have a type.”

“Really?” Yancy asked.

“Giant douchebags,” Raleigh said. “You seek them out. Like a compulsion.” He shook his head. “Can you pick this up while I shower? Fuck.”

“Hey, now,” Yancy said, shucking his giant duvet aside. “He’s hot.”

“It’s why you should only date women,” Raleigh said. “They, at least...I mean, it doesn’t end in fire and ruin, you know. Fuck.” He walked into the bathroom and winced at the wet glob of brother semen on his foot.

 _Welcome to fucking Sochi,_ he thought.

* * *

“Becket!” Raleigh recognized the deep, grumbling sound as they sought a table to sit at for breakfast.

“Cherno!” Yancy said - he still had not explained where that nickname came from. Yancy set down his tray and Aleksis stood. Watching Yancy get hugged by him never got old for Raleigh. “Was wondering when you would show up, big man.”

“Bed does not fit,” Aleksis replied.

“Chara put an ottoman at the end of his,” Yancy said.

“Better options when you are smarter,” Aleksis said. Then he grinned, but didn’t offer any more. Raleigh wished he had. He was convinced his bed was going to collapse on him at any moment - especially after seeing the tweet from the bobsledder who had to break out of his bathroom and they discovered that the inside of the door was made out of what appeared to be toilet paper rolls.

“This is Sasha,” Aleksis said. The woman seated next to him gave them a wide, brilliant, frightening smile. She had bleached blonde hair done back in braids and possibly more gold rings than Aleksis. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

“Great to meet you,” Yancy said, and he extended a hand to her. “Cherno and I played together in Vancouver.”

“Yes,” Sasha said. Raleigh tried to remember what sport she participated in when she rose to shake both their hands. Her grasp was certainly strong. “He said you were very bad boy, make them trade you to Winnipeg.”

“Not wholly inaccurate,” said Yancy. “Raleigh is a figure skater.”

Sasha looked at Yancy like he was a little slow. “Yes,” she said. “We watch your competition. Very good.” She gave him one of those slow smiles. “Most...uh, passionate?”

“They’re not really engaged,” Yancy said. “They’re both just dumb asses.”

“Smart, I would say,” Aleksis said. “Everyone love you. Such pretty hair.” Raleigh had the distinct feeling that he was only talking about him. “Where is your lady?”

“With the Weis,” Raleigh said. He had gone to get Mako for breakfast and had been surprised to find she had already gone - when, he wondered, had she found the time to introduce herself to the bobsledding brothers? He angled his head over to the table where the four of them were chatting amicably with her. She gave him a small wave.

As soon as they sat down two men approached that Aleksis greeted enthusiastically. “Thijs! Pieter!” The Dutch speed skaters, then. “We celebrate his gold medal last night!”

“Oh, congratulations,” Raleigh said, not sure which one of them had won.

“These are Beckets,” said Aleksis. The Dutch speed skaters nodded and began to eat earnestly as Yancy and Aleksis talked hockey.

“How do you get into biathalon, anyway?” one of them asked when conversation came to a bit of a lull at the table.

“Oh, well,” Sasha said, and waved her hand. “Is not much different from how we chase down bear near house, so…” The speed skaters laughed at this and Raleigh nodded. “Any sport more fun with guns.”

Raleigh considered this and then nodded - though he wasn’t sure who or what, in pairs skating, he would be shooting. _Stacker,_ he decided. _Definitely Stacker._

“Raleigh has his short program tonight,” Yancy said.

“Ah very good,” said one of the speed skaters. “We are watching with great interest. German pair is changing their program because of you two.”

“Johnny Weir says you will be doing throw-quad,” said the other speed skater. They both nodded.

Raleigh attempted to tell them apart - but his brain sort of got stuck on _blonde_ and _gorgeous_ and thinking about how their asses looked in their spandex. “We’re going to go for it in the long program, I think,” Raleigh said.

“Go big or go home,” said Yancy. “YOLO.”

“That is what the snowboarder is going to do,” said one of the speed skaters. “Big move to counter your American.” The other nodded.

“We are very big fans of the Winter Olympics,” he said, and they both smiled.

Raleigh couldn’t tell if they were completely serious or not.

* * *

_“And there’s Max, Herc Hansen’s service bulldog, who has become something of a mascot for the Aussie Olympic team-”_

The camera showed Max in the arms of a particularly attractive Australian female freestyle skiier. Yancy wondered if she knew Chuck well - and, if really well, she were open to… He shook his head. The bulldog was genius. He always had a happy, stupid smile on his face and seemed to enjoy nothing more than being held by people.

_“Definitely for the snowboard and freestyle ski team - today he’s wearing his pompom hat in support of Chuck Hansen, who is going to try and get gold for the Aussie men on the half pipe.”_

_“Has he got a chance?”_

_“If he pulls out all stops, I’d say yes - but it’s going to take both his unique combo jump, the Striker, and one of those YOLOs-”_

“Fuck, man, they have a halfpipe in Boulder and my sister was trying to get me to go down it - everyone acts like I’m fucking nuts playing hockey…” said Brad, reached over Yancy to get to a bowl of potato chips.

“Getts better answer my text,” said Will. “I want some fucking Molson-”

Yancy perked up at the sound of delicious Canadian beer. Not that he wasn’t growing appreciative of the generic beer they were getting - Sasha had assured him that the name on it, пиво!, literally just meant _beer!_ “They get some in?”

“You didn’t hear about this?” Brad asked. “Molson dropped a giant ass hoser style fridge in the Canadian pavillion - full of free beer, but you can only open it with a Canadian passport.”

“And you think Getts is going to get you some?” he asked Will. “He’s not your teammate now, dude.”

“He owes me-”

“Need to befriend some other Canadians,” Yancy said, thinking, in particular, of some of the women’s freestyle skiers they had watched in the slope style competition.

“Shut up, dickwads,” said Taylor, “I want to watch this Aussie asshole.”

Yancy nodded, resisting the urge to smirk a little bit as he thought of that Aussie asshole looming over him, dicking Yancy hard-

_“Here’s Chuck Hansen, and let’s see what he brings out of his bag of tricks-”_

_“And this kid has a lot of them at his disposal…”_ Yancy tuned out on the name of the tricks, instead watching the insane amount of air that Chuck got on each trick and the rotations and flips that he was able to pack in. And then there was that dumb pompom hat on his head. _“And there’s the Striker, 1080 degrees of awesome!”_

_“Looks like he’s not going to go for the YOLO, though, instead doing a double backside cork to end at that slushy bottom-”_

_“Probably a wise move after that insane run, cap it off with something he knows he can land…”_

“That kid is fucking nuts,” said Taylor. He glanced around the room for confirmation. They all nodded.

“Naw, man, you watch the ski slope style shit? Like, yeah, let’s do this...backwards! On skis! Fuck off,” said Will.

_“And Hansen gets a 89.5, which is going to put him in second for now after Podladtchikov…He’s going to have to bring it on that second run…”_

“Fuck!” said Will, and tossed his phone into the couch.

“Told you,” said Yancy. “Here, have another Peevo.”

They watched the rest of the competition largely in silence. Yancy waited for Chuck - kid was going to be pissed if he didn’t win, he’d been stalking the halls for days and you could tell he was a perfectionist. He grinned when one of the side reporters appeared standing next to Herc and Max. _“I’m here with Herc Hansen and Max - Herc, what have you advised Chuck to do on his next run?”_

 _“Got to go all out,”_ Herc said. _“But Chuck knows that - he’s a competitor.”_

 _“You think he’s got it, Max?”_ The camera zoomed in on the dog, who seemed to grin. The sideline reporter got down closer to him and he licked her face.

“Fuck, man, that dog - I will bet anything Hansen Senior does not have any kind of disability he needs a fucking service dog for,” Taylor said.

“Whatever, man, I like dogs,” said Will. “Would have loved to bring Moose.”

“Christ, you’d have to book him his own seat,” said Brad.

Yancy ignored them as Chuck filled the screen at the top of the half pipe. He had a determined scowl on his face, slightly contradicted by the pompoms sort of bobbing on top of his head in the wind. Then he dropped. Or whatever they did.

_“Good start for Hansen with that trick and there - oh, he just whipped out the Striker for his second trick and that means-”_

_“YOLO baby! Look at the huge air he got on that, that was insane-”_

Chuck was pumped his fist in the air at the bottom of his run - but he didn’t grin until his score was announced. _“And that’s going to put him in first, with one rider left!”_

Yancy was fixated on his dimples as he made his way over to his dad and his dog. Max licked his face eagerly and for the first time Chuck looked like a happy kid who had just done something awesome and not the raging douchemonster everyone claimed he was - Yancy couldn’t judge, his only interaction had been largely naked. And involved arm wrestling.

Those dimples only got deeper when he realized he had won after the last score came out - and he took Max from his father, put him on his snowboard, and then used one foot to propel him over towards the silver medalist to give him an awkward hug. Max hopped off the snowboard and began to paw at the silver medalist. He was Swiss, Yancy thought, and he scooped Max up eagerly and then handed him to Chuck.

Chuck held the dog aloft by his armpits, his pompom hat nearly falling off of the dog's head.

“Look at that dog, dude,” said Brad. “That is a chill ass dog.”

“We should steal him,” said Will. “Isn’t that kid on your floor?”

“We are not stealing the dog,” said Yancy. His three teammates looked shocked - and, OK, he was never the voice of reason. “Dude, he is an Olympic star - and what if he’s legitimately a service dog? We’d be more fucked than Bob Costas’ eyes.”

“He definitely washed with dangerous face water,” Taylor said.

* * *

“Mako, Raleigh, do you think that you’re in a good position going into the free skate?”

Mako looked like she was shooting daggers to the NBC correspondent. “Absolutely,” Raleigh said. “The standings are really tight right now and even in second, we’re confident in the difficulty of our free skate. We feel poised.” He smiled.

“I do not think that was a complete sentence,” Mako said, nudging him with her shoulder as they rode back from the ice rink.

“No one will notice, him smiling like that,” Stacker said. He shrugged when Raleigh met his eyes to try and figure out what he meant. “Although you’re no Chuck Hansen. His dimples are trending on Twitter.”

“His dog has a fake Twitter,” Raleigh said. Whoever was running it was really funny, too, though when they talked about all of the stray dogs getting shot around the city Raleigh felt a little sick to his stomach.

“He won tonight,” Mako said, and gave Raleigh a sly smile.

“Uh, and now he doesn’t have anything else to do besides my brother.” Stacker arched an eyebrow at this.

“Maybe he will seek out diversity of experiences,” she said. “I hear the Dutch are very open…” Her smile was broad as she said this. Like she was implying something. Like…

“Really?” Raleigh asked. Mako nodded her head - how did she know all of this?

Also, he was going to have to figure out their names.


	4. Chapter 4

Yancy woke up to the commotion down the hall - a dog barking, someone telling someone else to quiet down, a somewhat quiet “YOLO!” and then “Gold medal, wooo!” _Welcome back, Chuck Hansen,_ he thought, and for the first time, he was glad to be a light sleeper.

“Uh, fuck,” said Raleigh.

“Some of us are competing tomorrow!” one of the luge athletes called - probably the one with the bad haircut.

“Aw, let the kid celebrate - gold medal, woo!” the little tattooed one called.

“Don’t you even,” Raleigh said.

“Relax, Rals,” Yancy said, tugging his sweatpants on - time for a night light, pre-game insomnia stroll? “His roommate just did slopestyle and has been shacking up with his lady friend in her hotel room. You go back to sleep and dream of your quad Salchow.” He resisted the urge to ruffle Raleigh’s hair as he stumbled out of the room, still sort of asleep. Tomorrow was...well. “I’ll try not to wake you?”

“I hate you,” Raleigh said, and it almost made Yancy reconsider.

He was just going to have to convince Chuck that he should spend the night.

He took a walk down the other end of the hall, down towards where the Weis, the Dutch speedskaters, and the Kaidanovsky’s were lodged. There was a little noise coming from one of the Weis room - not surprising, they seemed to be having trouble adjusting to the time difference and weren’t competing for a few more days. Yancy waved when he saw the open door.

“Hey, guys,” he said. He presumed they spoke some English since Mako had been talking with them quite a bit and she didn’t have a Chinese language in her repertoire.

“Becket,” said one, and it was hard to tell which ones were the triplets and which one was the older brother who piloted their sled - Crimson Typhoon, or something, which had already warranted a feature on NBC.

“Hockey Becket,” said another. “You up late.”

“Insomnia,” Yancy said. “Plus YOLO Hansen is making some noise down there.” He leaned against the doorjamb.

“You make him make more noise?” said the first one who had spoke to him, who for some reason had sunglasses around his neck.

“We have to close door?” another asked.

“You have reputation,” said a third, and Yancy noted that he was a little smaller than the other three, more wiry muscle. The driver, then. “Li,” he said. “Asshole with sunglasses is Hu, then Cheung and Jin. You remember?”

“I’ll try,” Yancy said. “So, uh, cool runnings, and all.”

“Feel the rhythm!”

“Feel the ride!”

“Get on up!”

“It’s bobsled time!” Each Wei said in perfect rhythm.

Yancy grinned. He decided Mako got his official approval for fucking one or all of them.

He made the circle around the floor, considered the vending machine, and then stuffed three of the free Olympic condoms into the pocket of his sweatpants - because it was best to be prepared. Then he headed back for Chuck’s room, listening to make sure that Herc and the dog had departed.

Yancy knocked lightly. “Aw, fuck old man, what now?” Chuck said.

“I’m not that old,” Yancy said. “Figure winning a gold medal, you should at least get sucked off.”

The door opened and Chuck was grinning at him, dimples out in full force. “Yeah?” he said. “You know how many fucking people have offered that tonight?”

Yancy slid his tongue out his mouth and trailed it along his lips, then smiled at Chuck. “And yet you’re back here,” he said. He turned his head slightly and licked the side of his lip before grinning at Chuck, who swallowed and nodded his head.

“Come in then,” Chuck said.

The room was immaculate, which surprised Yancy - snowboarders, and all. Before Yancy could think about this further, though, Chuck tugged at him and kissed him, hard. “I think,” he said, when he released Yancy’s mouth from a quick, but deep kiss, “that a gold medal should warrant more than just a blowjob.”

“Oh?” Yancy asked. Chuck ran his hands under the hem of his the t-shirt Yancy had on. His fingers dipped as he latched his thumbs into the waistband of Yancy’s sweatpants and he gave him one of those grins again.

It didn’t take long for Chuck to be naked on his back on the floor with Yancy between his legs, peppering slow kisses down from his knee to right next to his dick and then around and up again. “Fuck, get one with it!”

“First-place should get a gold medal blowjob,” Yancy said, then trailed his mouth down Chuck’s hard, strong thigh. The kid shivered.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, and Yancy cupped and rolled his balls.

He took him down in one smooth motion, using his hand to guide Chuck’s cock until he was pretty much pressed against his skin and hair. Chuck smelled of sweat and a light deodorant, a little bit of beer and something sort of sweet. Yancy groaned and slowly slid his mouth up to just around the tip and back down again. He grinned as Chuck tangled his fingers in his hair.

Yancy alternated between using his mouth in long, smooth strokes and his tongue and mouth on the tip, humming and seeking out all of Chuck’s most sensitive spots. When he found them, he teased out Chuck’s pleasure, and as much as the kid tried to keep it in he was soon moaning and tugging at Yancy’s hair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he said. “Never thought some hockey player could suck cock like this.” Yancy was not going to touch that one.

Chuck was close, so Yancy pulled him back, slowing his mouth and tongue, using a light touch on his cock. Then Yancy hummed and reached a thumb back for Chuck’s prostate, massaging it gently until he had pulled Chuck back to the threshold again. Then he worked his thumb harder and in rhythm with his mouth. Chuck moaned, long and deep, a sound that was probably going to wake Raleigh up. He stopped soon, at least, when he came, and Yancy took the result down easily, letting it coat his throat. “Fucking Christ,” said Chuck.

Yancy sat up between his legs and wiped the corner of his mouth. “What about hockey players and cock sucking?” he asked.

“Huh,” Chuck said, and got up on his elbows. His grin was broad and Yancy sort of tackled him and kissed him. Chuck struggled a bit, underneath, and then finally acquiesced. “Condoms and lube in the drawer, man,” he said. “You still want to fuck me?”

“Get my dick in that ass?” Yancy asked, and reached for the bedside table drawer. He was amazed that it didn’t collapse.

Chuck grabbed at him and kissed him again, then lay back down and pulled his roommates pillow from his bed. “He’s not gonna be back,” he said.

“You think I care?” Yancy asked, and he slid a finger into Chuck.

Winning a gold medal apparently really fucking relaxed you - either that, or it was the blowjob. Yancy would have to test this hypothesis out.

Chuck rolled onto his stomach and propped himself up, giving Yancy a very good view of that round ass of his. Yancy massaged it, admired it, debated licking it, and then just slid right into Chuck. “Oh, fuck, that is fucking good,” he said.

“Yeah,” Chuck replied, and turned, big shit eating grin only amplifying the effect of his dimples. Yancy thrust into him, hard, groaned at the heat of Chuck, how tight he was while still being pliant.

He held his hips and controlled the rhythm, set a hard pace from the start and then slowed and pulled his cock over Chuck’s prostate. “Fucking hell!” Chuck moaned, dropped his head onto his arms. It was Yancy’s turn to grin. “C’mon, mate, fuck!”

“Mate?” Yancy asked, amazed that Australians actually said that.

“Just...fuck!” Chuck said, so Yancy did, setting a harder, faster rhythm and driving into Chuck. His pleasure began to roll and escalate as he buried himself inside Chuck. “Yes, yes!” he said, and Yancy presumed he was sliding right where he needed to, so he leaned over and got more contact with Chuck’s skin as he pursued his own climax.

“God, that’s so good, fuck, yeah, yeah…” Yancy said, and then he was coming, hard and fast, right into the deepest parts of Chuck. He reached forward and was pleased to see Chuck come as well, his hand coated in semen. Chuck groaned and collapsed, taking Yancy down with him.

“Fuck, shoulda pulled the mattress onto the floor.”

“Probably,” Yancy said. He rolled over and grinned, really satisfied.

“Really?” Chuck asked. “Like you’re that good.”

Yancy turned his head and looked at Chuck - but the kid was too exhausted to be as sarcastic as he needed to be. Yancy kissed him instead. Chuck was an excellent kisser, slow and deep and able to work against Yancy while still complimenting him. Feisty little bastard, really.

Just the way that Yancy liked it.

“Shit,” he said, when they finally pulled away. “M’brother’s competing tomorrow. He’s gonna be pissed if-”

“Is that the best you’ve got?” Chuck asked.

“He is fucking competing tomorrow.”

“I know,” Chuck said. “Whatever. Extra bed.” He didn’t make any effort to move off of the duvet on the floor, though.

Yancy, on the other hand, still had a game to play. And relatively soon. “Right,” he said, and stood and headed over towards the bed.

“You are such a dumb cunt,” Chuck said. “Pull the goddamn mattress onto the floor, yeah?”  
Yancy nodded. “And don’t touch me.”

“Sure,” he said.

* * *

Yancy shuffled into the figure skating arena - he had a game tomorrow and probably shouldn’t be here, but it was his little brother and he was probably going to win an...Olympic medal. He sat looked at his ticket, looked at the row that he was assigned to, and then looked at his ticket. _Just my fucking luck,_ he thought.

“Oh, hey, Max,” he said, reaching for the dog in Herc Hansen’s lap. Chuck was on the other side of him and gave Yancy a broad, crocodile grin. Max accepted his pets eagerly. “You are probably the most popular person here, eh?”

“Eh?” Chuck asked. “You fucking Canadian?”

“You know any fucking Canadians?” Herc asked. “Eager to get a hold of some of those Molsons.”

“Trust me, any Canadians I know are not responding to texts right now,” Yancy said. He shook his head. Petty little bastards. See if he helped them out under similar circumstances.

“Mmm,” Herc said. He looked out onto the ice and nodded his head. “How’s your brother doing? All right?”

“I’d say so,” Yancy said.

“Get a good nights sleep last night?” Chuck asked.

“Yeah,” Yancy said - he was not playing that game. He was too old for that. Also, what were the Hansen’s doing in the family section? “Who’d you get your tickets from, anyway?”

“Oh, Stacker Pentecost,” said Herc. “Knew him from back in the day, old glory days of the Olympics and he was a black figure skater from England and I was some crazy ginger fuck from Australia who was going to try aerial skiing.”

“Ah,” said Yancy and then smiled at Chuck, who was clearly now attempting to figure out just how well the two of them knew each other.

“Stacker says they’re the best together he’s ever seen,” Herc said. “Told me I could put some money on it. Not that I’m a betting man.”

“Oh, tell yourself what you need to,” said Chuck. “How much did you make on the Ashes, oi?”

“Tidy amount,” said Herc and he grinned slightly.

Chuck rolled his eyes. Yancy looked down at Max and shrugged his shoulders.

* * *

 

“Becket and Mori are up next - do you think they have a shot at gold, given how well both Russian pairs skated?”

“Absolutely - I think they’ve got some amazing tricks up their sleeves, some things they’ve been saving for this program, and if they execute like we know they can…they’ll be skating to a medley of Led Zepellin songs.”

“Ah, that would explain the costumes. Here they are, taking their positions on the ice - just look at how the connection between the two of them, it’s palpable in the air…”

"And there you see Yancy Becket, Raleigh's brother, in the stands - he's got a game tomorrow but is out supporting his younger brother..." 

* * *

“Oh, fuck me,” said Chuck, when Mako landed the throw quad Salchow.

Yancy nodded his head. He felt himself tighten his grip on the seats as they moved into their next maneuver, the lift that even made him feel a little queasy. He was pretty sure there was a point where Raleigh wasn’t actually holding onto Mako. He felt himself want to close his eyes, but he didn’t want to miss this, either. “C’mon, Rals…Mako…” They were lining up for the jump, the last significant element, and-

The sound the crowd made echoed through the entire building.

“Fuck,” he, Herc, and Chuck said.

* * *

“I’m here with Mako Mori and Raleigh Becket, who just won a silver medal in the pairs competition,” said the NBC correspondent. “How are you feeling, with such clear expectations-”

“We’re absolutely thrilled,” Raleigh said with a brilliant smile, wrapping his arm around Mako’s waist to keep her from ripping the woman’s throat out - amusing at it would be, it would not go over well. “We performed beyond expectations - landed the throw quad, which we’d wanted to do all week, and, you know, for a pair that just started skating together a year ago, we are beyond thrilled.”

“An Olympic medal is an extraordinary accomplishment,” Mako added, though her teeth did not appear to part in her mouth as she said it. Raleigh knew it was bad, but there was a very large part of him that was glad he wasn’t the one who two-footed the landing on their triple Lutz.

“Absolutely thrilled,” Raleigh added, nodding emphatically before he guided Mako away and back towards Stacker.

“We’re just going to take a minute, OK, Raleigh?” Stacker said, and Raleigh nodded his head while Stacker and Mako ducked into one of the smaller dressing rooms off of the rink. He stood with a smile plastered on his face as various people stopped by to congratulate him.

“Aw, hey, bro,” said Yancy. “Where’s Mako?”

Raleigh narrowed his eyes at Yancy, still a little pissed about the night before. And the spunk he got on his foot. He nodded his head back towards the closed dressing room door where there was the distinct sound of rapid fire Japanese.

“Ah,” said Yancy. “Well, between you and me, probably a good thing you weren’t the one to two-foot that shit.” Raleigh just let his stupid smile crawl further across his face. “Still, silver medal! Wooo!”

“Woo,” Raleigh said.

“Funny story, too, guess who I sat next to? Can you believe that Herc Hansen and Stacker are good friends? From the Olympic glory days,” Yancy said, raising his eyebrows.

“Great,” said Raleigh. He inhaled, and exhaled. Was it wrong that he was thrilled? He knew that gold had been their ultimate goal, but coming into this - hell, no one had even expected them to be one of the two pairs the U.S. was going to get to bring to Sochi, let alone medal.

“You really did well,” Yancy said, lowering his voice slightly. “I’m really proud of you.”

“Oh, no,” Raleigh said. “Journalist.”

Yancy turned around instantly, facing towards the door. For some reason this seemed to make all of the difference. Either that or the journalist wasn’t looking for him to start. Didn’t matter. “You know, Stacker said we weren’t going to get out of Sochi without Costas sitting us down…”

“Man, there is no way that shit is pink eye,” Yancy said.

“Don’t you have a game tomorrow?” Raleigh asked.

“Yeah, thanks,” Yancy said. “Totally forgot about that. Tell Mako...well, whatever you think is going to sound best.”

Raleigh nodded his head and sighed.

* * *

Mako was fine once she walked out, though, and she smiled at Raleigh and gave him a nod - enough that he knew he didn’t need to ask any questions or say anything else. She was radiant as they accepted their medal and gracious with the Russian couples who medaled alongside of them.

“So strange,” Mako said. “To work, for so long...and now...that is it.”

“Not it,” Raleigh said, but he knew what she meant.

“NBC would like to do an interview with both of you in their studio,” Stacker said. Raleigh nodded and Mako rolled her eyes. When they got into the car, he looked at both of them. “Now, remember-”

“Yes, yes, polite but enigmatic,” Mako said. She looked down at the ring on her finger and shook her head. “Except you-” she pointed a finger at Raleigh, “-with your hand-”

“We touch each other more intimately on the ice!”

“Oh, I know,” Mako said.

“It was good,” Stacker said with a slight smile. “Very good - America’s darlings. They love you.”

* * *

Yancy sat in front of the television and sighed. He knew he should be asleep, but-

“Both of you had an amazing Olympics,” said Meredith Viera. “What was going through your heads before the free skate?”

“We wanted to show what we could do,” said Mako. “We wanted to skate a program that we would feel proud of and that represented all the work that we have done.”

“Can we talk about that - it seems remarkable, you’ve only been skating for a year.”

“We had an immediate connection,” said Raleigh. “We shared a lot of similarities, on and off the ice.”

“We felt very comfortable together,” said Mako.

“I think that we were both willing to put a lot of work in,” said Raleigh. “To be the best that we could.” Mako nodded her head. They both smiled.

“Were you nervous, getting paired with Raleigh initially?”

“Yes,” said Mako. “But I trusted him from the start. He was willing to try the same things, and more than that, we grew very close - and I think that connection is very important.” Raleigh nodded his head and smiled. The kid’s hair was ridiculous and he looked like an overgrown puppy.

Like no one had made that comparison before. “How do you feel about tonight’s result?”

“Incredibly pleased with the result,” said Mako. “You accept, in our sport - one mistake, on one particular night...to have an Olympic silver after everything is an incredible accomplishment that we are very pleased with.” She gave a huge, unnatural smile. She seemed to have learned this technique from Stacker.

Raleigh put his hand on her thigh and smiled as well. Yancy shook his head. The interviewer and the two of them had a bit of a staring contest, and then she thanked them for stopping by after their competition.

“Well, that was fucking tense,” said Chuck, and he wrapped an arm around Yancy and put his head on his shoulder.

“Yeah, right?” Yancy said.

“Are you tense, Becket? Big game against Slova-something?”

“I’m ready…” Yancy said, then heard Chuck scoff. “No, yes, very tense.”

“Mmm,” Chuck said. “What can we do about that?”

* * *

Raleigh turned - where the hell had Mako gone? He shook his head. She had an agenda, he was just going to have to accept that. “Ah, Rally,” said Sasha, and she wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Thrill of victory, agony of defeat.”

“Yes,” Raleigh said. “You were-”

“Fourth is higher than I have ever been,” Sasha said with a smile. “All those pretty Scandinavians, the Belarussians - they must be skilled with guns, keep the sex traffickers away.”

“Oooh,” Raleigh said, but Sasha put a Molson in his hand. “Hey, where-”

“Becket,” said Aleksis. “Russians can get you anything. Get you Olympics in sub-tropics.” Everyone in the room laughed. “Toast to Becket and Mori, very well done, dorm comrades!” The toast was in several languages, and Raleigh spun and saw that Mako was back in the doorway of the room with one of the Weis. The one with the sunglasses.

“Spacebo,” Raleigh said.

“You remember Thijs, Rally,” said Sasha, sort of guiding him over towards a lanky blonde man sprawled out on her bed. Her roommate was talking eagerly with the other Dutch speed skater.

“Beautiful skate tonight, ya?” said Thijs, as Sasha gave Raleigh a little push down onto the bed. “All your elements, so advanced. Too bad about judging.”

“Judging?” Raleigh asked.

“Yes, one stumble, that is a deduction - but your other elements should have got higher score than the Jesus Russians, or whatever they were doing,” Thijs said. He barked something in Dutch and Pieter wandered over and pulled up something on his iPad.

“Oh, no,” Raleigh said, remembering that one Olympics with the pretty Canadian pair skaters and the evil Russians who had triumphed over them. He skimmed the article quickly and winced. “Mako-”

“This is a good thing,” Mako called from the doorway. “Now the engagement is secondary, just an element to our tragedy.” The bobsled triplet nudged his face into her neck and whispered something and she giggled. Actually giggled.

“Speed skating, all objective,” said Thijs, and he nodded his head. “You ever try it?”

Raleigh turned his head slightly as Chuck Hansen wandered in with Herc and Max. He nodded at them and then inclined his head towards the Molson. Sasha immediately scooped Max into her arms and let him kiss her face. “Such beautiful beast,” she said.

“He’s my handsome little man,” said Herc. “Aren’t you? My best little man. Olympic hero.”

Chuck rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall to talk to - Raleigh wasn’t sure, actually.

“Sorry,” he said to Thijs, because - well, guy seemed interested, guy was gorgeous, and Raleigh had just won an Olympic medal. “He and my brother-”

“Oh, yes,” said the speedskater. “He was on him like...whatever you say.”

“Backpackers on weed?” Raleigh attempted. Thijs laughed. Thank god.

“You are both..?”

“I’m gay,” Raleigh said. “Yancy’s...bi, I guess, but he leans towards women. There’s just a particular type of douchebag he can’t seem to resist. I used to joke, he could only fuck one guy per year, because it just ends in spectacular, horrific failure. Last time he slumped for like a month, got himself traded to fucking Winnipeg.” Raleigh shook his head and realized that Thijs was smiling at him, interested, but he was also _looking_ at him. “I’m going to stop talking,” he said.

“I like your talking - but there are other things your mouth could be doing.”

Well, fuck.


	5. Chapter 5

“Yancy, how do you think that period went?”

“Good, absolutely - they’re a fast team, so we had to try and shut down those opportunities for them...I think we did that. Other than that, you know, drive to the net, we’ll get those scoring chances. And Sandy's been indispensable for us in goal…”

“What about the crowd? Does that get distracting?”

“Naw, I mean - they’re obviously really passionate about their hockey, about their team, but it’s a good atmosphere to be in, gets you fired up.”

“Well - congrats on getting the U.S.’s only goal, in the first, and good luck in the third.”

“Thanks.”

* * *

“Uh, look at his stupid face,” Raleigh said, watching the interview after the game was over. Yancy was sweaty and grinning, his eyes a little manic.

“You do not want your brother to do well?” Mako asked.

“No! Of course I do, just…uh, I should just accept I’m gonna get dragged in to sit on that couch with him, aren’t I?” Raleigh asked.

Mako nodded her head. “It is an irresistible story. One brother, a manly hockey player, the other, dressed in spangles, figure skating-”

Raleigh punched her lightly in the arm. “When have I ever worn spangles?” It was something he had been adamant about with Stacker - color, sure, embellishments, flowing sleeves, whatever, but no fucking spangly stuff.

“You would have more fun if you wore spangles,” Mako said. “Embrace it.” Raleigh gave her a half smile and then flopped back onto the bed. “Tired?”

She arched an eyebrow, clearly probing. “Well...a little,” Raleigh said, and grinned. “I actually sort of fell asleep on him, but we both woke up early like for training, so…”

“Such round asses, those speed skaters,” Mako said, and Raleigh nodded his head. “I have to get going, though.”

“Where?” Raleigh asked.

“Bobsled track,” Mako said, like this was obvious. “To watch some practice runs - maybe sneak in for one.”

“Oh,” Raleigh said, and he almost asked if he could come. Mako shook her head.

“Your ass is too fat for their bobsled,” she said, smile a little wicked.

“You’re going to just leave me with Yancy?” Raleigh asked.

“Oh, Raleigh, you’re a big boy,” she said. “I’m sure you can find some way to entertain yourself.” Raleigh stared as she left. He should have known Mako would just peace out once their event was over, though - she was here for the full experience. She wasn’t going to let a diamond ring accidentally placed on her left ring finger stop her.

Raleigh sighed and flopped back against the bed. His speed skater was back at the oval, getting ready for his last race later this week in the 10 kilometers. It seemed like everyone had something to do. He opened up his laptop again and narrowed his eyebrows at his brother’s stupid face. His game-winning goal scoring stupid face.

* * *

"You insolent little-" the bad haircut one, as Yancy referred to him. He yelled something in German, then. 

"Oh, it's just that you are diametrically opposed to fun, Hermann, you know, that thing, where you enjoy what you're doing?" 

"I hardly think that some orgy with a bunch of-" German again. He was aware of how thin the walls were, then, and it didn't stop him from shouting.

Raleigh sighed and put his pillow over his head. Fuck Yancy, he thought, the bastard had taken his headphones. Presumably because he lost his own.

"You know, much as that ten foot pole up your ass probably benefitted us on the course, I think it might be time to look into it's removal-" said the little tattooed one.

"Finally!" Raleigh said. "Just get on to the kinky shit, it's better than listening to you bicker!" 

This, at least, shut them up. For about five minutes.

* * *

“Your first game, Yancy, and it’s against the Russian team - how did you feel about that?” Meredith Viera looked sort of eerie on television. She’d been kind of creepy looking in person, too, where all of the plastic surgery was more obvious. One eye had been distinctly different from the other and as Yancy talked to her he tried not to fixate on that.

“We were excited,” Yancy said. “They’re obviously a favorite in the tournament and so it’s always good to get out there and skate against the best.”

“You’ve come into the Games on a bit of a hot streak - how did you just carry that through?”

“Wasn’t too hard,” Yancy said, “I’d just played in Winnipeg, so jet lag was really the major impediment.”

“You look kind of dopey in that jacket,” Chuck said, as Yancy answered a question about team chemistry. They’d had him wear the Team USA windbreaker jacket.

“Better than wearing the sweater,” Yancy said. Fuck, what was he going to do with that monstrosity? Probably sell it on Ebay. Couldn’t even wear it ironically.

“Man, who thought that would be a good idea?” Chuck asked. “You poor fuckers, it just looked like you weren’t in on the joke.”

Yancy sighed and clicked off the interview. “Next two are easy though, oi?” Chuck asked.

“Never say that!” Yancy hissed at him.

“Superstitious?” Chuck asked, and grinned at him with those stupid dimples.

“I wear the same-”

“No, don’t tell me, I’ll never want to fuck you again,” Chuck said. “And snowboarders get the reputation for being dirty hippies, fuck.”

“Hippies?” Yancy asked, turning the television screen off and rolling to look at Chuck. “I hardly-”

“Yeah, ya kna, brah,” Chuck said, a fairly decent interpretation of the laid-back, sort marbley-mouthed way most of the U.S. snowboarders spoke in.

“I’m still not sure that-” Chuck cut him off with a tight, blistering kiss, immediately climbing over Yancy and pinning him down for his insolence. “I don’t think that word means what you think-” Chuck kissed him again, grabbing at his wrist and holding it firm to his side. “That’s my stick hand, asshole!”

“If you weren’t such a dick you wouldn’t have got yourself in that position,” Chuck said. He was grinning down at Yancy with those dimples of his. Yancy grinned back and nodded his head, ceding the point. “You ever get spanked, Becket?” Yancy shook his head. “I find that hard to believe…”

* * *

“We will rock paper scissors for it,” said Hu, and Mako stood in one of their extra suits, considering the bobsled helmet. If someone had asked her, what is the one thing you want to do while in Sochi besides win a medal, this would be it. She glanced down over at the track and grinned.

“No,” said Li. “I am driving, I have to be in there. Cheung is brakes. Between you and Jin.” He put a possessive hand on the red bobsled, apparently designed by the triplets and Li to be the most state of the art, aerodynamic bobsled known to man. Mako was particularly fond of the typhoon style art that adorned the side.

“Fine,” said Hu, and the two brothers played an incredibly quick game to decide - Mako got the feeling they did this often. Was that how Hu had become the one to take her to bed the other evening?

“You didn’t bring Becket?” asked Li.

“He would not fit,” Mako said, and they all laughed.

Hu wrapped an arm around her waist, and part of her was relieved. Sure, she was open to certain things - and it wasn’t everyday life presented you with a bobsled full of gorgeous men, but you also had to draw the line somewhere. “Yeah, fuck you,” said Jin.

“Always throw scissor, asshole,” said Hu.

Jin pushed them off for the start so that Mako didn’t have to jump to get into the bobsled. They immediately picked up speed and she whooped, exhilarated, as they took their first turn and went nearly sideways. The feeling was so distinct from anything she had ever done.

She felt free, even though she was shoved between two of the Weis and in a bobsled.

It was over too soon. “Again,” she said. “I want to do it again.”

“You are a natural,” said Hu. “Maybe next Olympics you switch sports, do women’s two-man?”

Mako looked up at the start of the track and nodded her head.

* * *

“Hello, Mr. Hansen,” Raleigh said, after Herc came back down the hall after stopping at Chuck’s room and then reversing course.

Herc stood in the doorway with Max, who seemed sad. He had on a Team Australia shirt instead of his normal service dog vest - famous enough now, it seemed, that it was not necessary. “Herc,” he said.

“Want to come in - I’ve got some, uh, vodka,” Raleigh said, nodding towards the vodka bottle in an ice bucket on his desk.

Herc sat down and Max walked over to Raleigh, sniffing him. He made a huffing sound as Raleigh scrunched at his ears and pet his wrinkles. “So, how much of a dickhead is your brother?”

“Uh…” said Raleigh.

“S’OK, my kid’s a giant wanker as well.”

“Every time Yancy is with a guy it generally ends poorly,” said Raleigh. “Flames, despair, that sort of thing. Trades to Winnipeg.”

Herc nodded. “Seem to be spending an awful lot of time together.”

Raleigh shrugged. He didn’t think that they were discussing their life goals, or anything like that.

Raleigh poured two shots and they quickly consumed them. Herc sighed, then smiled slightly at Raleigh. “You celebrate at all last night?”

“Uh.”

“Aw, come on, Becket, no shame in it. Shoulda seen Stacker and I, pulling these two beautiful Norwegian cross country skiers.” He got a long, wistful look. “Now all they want to do is pet Max.”

“That can’t be true, uh, sir,” Raleigh said, not really sure how to address Herc. “You’re very attractive, actually.” It came out before he really thought about it, and he made a slight coughing sound and covered his mouth.

“Yeah?” Herc asked, and he grinned. “That’s really nice. Thanks, Raleigh. Max, give him a kiss.”

Max obediently hopped over to Raleigh and got into his lap, then put his paws up on Raleigh’s chest and slobbered on his face. Raleigh fell back, laughing, because he hadn’t expected it. “Aw, Max,” he said, and scrunched the dog’s ears and grinned.

“He’s got a feature tonight,” Herc said.

* * *

“Max Hansen never thought that he was destined for Olympic Glory. Born in Sydney five years ago, he was all wrinkles and ready to love.”

“Aw, look at him,” Yancy said to Raleigh. It was incredibly fucking adorable. He was in Chuck’s hands, a bundle of wrinkles, face barely visible.

“Max is a part of the family,” Herc said, and as he talked further about him there were pictures of Max as he grew, accompanying Chuck to snowboarding events, playing fetch in the backyard as Herc hit cricket balls at him. “When I discovered that we could use him to assist me, well, it was the obvious choice.”

“Max studied hard, learning how to detect the smell of a seizure up to thirty minutes before it would strike Herc. He worked diligently to learn how to be a service dog - though it isn’t easy, with all the people who want to pet him!”

“Swedish free style ski team tried to jack him,” said a grumpy looking Chuck. “But it’s not a joke, you know. He’s got that vest for a reason.”

“He is such a pissed off little koala,” Yancy said. It was almost a sigh, and Raleigh raised his eyebrow. Didn’t sound like just another hook-up. Which meant...Raleigh shook his head.

“Max has had about the best time possible at the Olympics,” said Herc, and then he grinned when the interviewer pulled her jacket open to reveal a Max t-shirt. “Really embodies the spirit of the thing, you know - when I competed, everyone thought it was funny, skier from Australia. But now look at our team, sixty members strong. Two gold medals. And Max represents that.” Herc gave a toothy grin to end it, knowing he had given the perfect sound bite.

“Fuck me,” said Raleigh, as the feature ended with Max running towards a crowd of people eager to hug him.

“You want me to go get your speed skater, Raleigh?” Yancy asked. “Heard they’re fucking amazing in bed - stamina, great ass, even better thighs…” He turned and looked at Raleigh. “C’mon, little bro, what happens in Sochi stays in Sochi.”

“It was really...satisfying,” Raleigh said. He’d come three times - so had Thijs. Like he was a kid again. “Uh, definitely…” he nodded his head, remembering his cock going into that hard, muscular ass. “Definitely would do again.” He had done again, in fact, but...he didn’t need Yancy telling everyone about his hook-up.

“Then get on it - you’ve got a silver medal and nothing better to do," Yancy said. "Man, I kinda of wish we weren't...hockey medal, or crazy sex? Hockey medal, or crazy sex?" He shook his head.

* * *

“And there, in the stands, is Yancy’s brother Raleigh Becket - he got the gold medal in pairs skating - along with the U.S. ice dancers, Meryl Davis and Charlie White. We’ll have a feature on he and his brother tomorrow night when they talk with Bob Costas…”

“Oh, Raleigh,” Mako said, and turned the television off. She grinned up at Hu Wei.

"Take focus off you," Hu said. "And ring."

 “Mmm,” Mako said. “I am definitely OK with him being America’s sweetheart.”

“He has hair for it,” Hu said. “And jaw.” Mako nodded as he kissed at her breast and then dipped his head lower.

* * *

“Come to Dutch House tonight,” Thijs said, kissing at Raleigh’s jaw. “Good beer, good music, best party in Sochi.”

Raleigh turned and met his deep green eyes. “You don’t mind if people-”

“It is practically Netherlands,” he replied. “No one will care. People are having threesomes, moresomes…” he glanced over at the bed that Pieter slept in. “He thinks you are very pretty, too.”

“Fuck,” Raleigh said, because he was a little drunk and a little high from watching the hockey game go down to a shoot-out with nine different rounds.

“When else do two strong, athletic men present themselves on a platter to you, Raleigh?” Thijs asked. “Put your pretty ass right in the middle?”

“I’m gonna need a couple Stellas or Heinekins or whatever,” Raleigh said.

Thijs smacked his ass. “Good boy.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was only going to write one more chapter, but then read an article about [Gus Kenworthy and his puppies.](http://www.cbsnews.com/news/winter-olympics-2014-us-skier-gus-kenworthy-stuck-in-sochi-waiting-to-adopt-puppies/) Toast and achilleees agreed this needed to be a plot point, so...quick chapter!

“Is it bad that I don’t want to shake his hand?” Yancy asked, glancing over at Bob Costas. “I mean, he’s still in those glasses…”

“I looked it up on the Internet and conjunctivitis should clear after three days,” Raleigh said.

“So definitely dangerous face water.”

Raleigh nodded. Costas’ eyes still looked a little wonky behind his glasses, a bit swollen and squinty at the same time. He wondered if they would ever know the truth. Before he could say anything else, the host walked over to them.

“Really nice to meet you both,” he said, and they shook hands. “We have a little video segment planned and then we’ll do the sit down interview.” He smiled at them.

His toupee was a lot more apparent in real life than on television, Raleigh thought.

* * *

Raleigh watched the video segment with trepidation - after the whole Bode Miller thing he wasn’t exactly feeling magnanimous towards NBC. But the segment didn’t delve too deeply into the _horrible tragedy!_ aspect of things, instead just showing videos of little hockey skating Yancy and little figure skating Raleigh and mentioning how they both managed to overcome their parents _horribly tragic death!_ before turning to their athletic success.

“I’m sitting here with Raleigh and Yancy Becket, the two brothers who are taking the Sochi Olympics by storm - Raleigh, along with partner Mako Mori, won a silver in pairs skating and bronze in the team event, and Yancy is going to be skating in the hockey semifinals with Team U.S. later this week. How did you wind up in such different disciplines?”

“We both started out playing hockey,” Yancy said. “But, well - Rals-”

“I was completely hopeless,” Raleigh said, with his fake aw shucks smile. “And then, as one does with all hopeless kids in your hockey program, they stuck me in goal-”

“He sat down and gave up,” Yancy said.

“So our coach said, well, he’s a pretty good skater - he tried to talk my mom into speed skating, but the lessons were at the other side of town. Figure skating was at the same time as Yancy’s hockey,” Raleigh said.

“And Raleigh really liked the outfits,” Yancy said, probably with that shit-eating grin of his.

“What do you think it was that led to both of you becoming Olympians?” Bob Costas asked, and he lowered his tone ever so slightly, suggesting he wanted them to commence with the sob-story portion of the proceedings.

“Our parents never really pushed us, even though they were always really proud,” Yancy said.

“Yeah, I never felt like this was something I had to do - and I remember there were times, when I wanted to quit, and mum and dad said that if I didn’t like it anymore I should...but if I was just frustrated, I needed to push past it,” Raleigh said.

“Were you competitive with each other?” Bob Costas asked, and you could see the wheels in his head working, now that he realized that they were onto him.

“Absolutely,” said Yancy.

“You were,” Raleigh said, and he gave America an adorable pout. “You were jealous, when we were little, because I was always winning medals and stuff and you didn’t get anything for your games…”

“And then I got really jealous when you started pairs,” Yancy said. “Thirteen years old and he gets to skate around with this really pretty girl for hours on end?” Bob Costas laughed at this, even though he had to know Yancy had busted it out before.

For a moment, Raleigh thought he was going to throw-up.

“You were at Raleigh’s long program even though you had the Russia game the next day, and Raleigh, you were at all of Yancy’s games-”

“Not Russia,” said Yancy.

“I couldn’t even get tickets for that!” Raleigh said, to an awkward chuckle from Bob Costas.

“How important is it, for you two to support one another?”

“Incredibly important,” said Yancy. “We’ve supported each other for a long time - through a lot, and I’ve always been really proud of Raleigh.”

“Me too,” Raleigh said, and it was true. Even if Yancy was a douchebag, he was his douchebag brother, and mostly he was a douchebag because he was ridiculous not because he wasn’t nice to people.

“I always feel really lucky, to know Raleigh is supporting me, you know, that I can call him and talk or whatever,” Yancy said. “A lot of people don’t have that with their siblings.”

Bob Costas looked like he wanted to pounce, but it appeared that their segment time was up and he was getting some signal from his producers. “Well, I want to thank you two for coming by to talk, and again, congratulations Raleigh, and good luck Yancy.”

He gave them a look - or maybe just had to squint his eyes, after the interview - as the tape presumably stopped rolling. He seemed almost curious, wondering how the Beckets hadn’t got the memo that they needed to exploit their own personal tragedies in order to provide a feel good moment for the viewing public.

Then he just smiled, stood up, and walked off. Yancy stretched and yawned. “See?” he said. “Piece of cake.”

* * *

“Oh, look,” said Chuck. “The hockey practice rink. You want me to sit in the stands and watch your stick handling?”

“I think you already have a pretty good perspective on that,” Yancy replied. “Besides, I sort of need your help with something?”

Chuck looked at him, suspicious - this was not part of the arrangement, he thought. Sex, banter, sarcasm, more sex. There was no helping with some personal thing, or-

Yancy walked into one of the tents where the press was set up and over to a corner where there was a very large cardboard box. The inside was filled with American flag printed towels and blankets and two of the opening ceremony sweaters. “Chuck,” he said. “Puppies.” He waved his hand.

A head poked out of one of the sweaters - the puppy was maybe eight or nine weeks old, a little too young to be on its own, and it was brown with black markings and blue eyes. Fucking adorable. “Oh, look at it,” Chuck said, and he instantly plopped down and held his arms out. The puppy wiggled out and flopped into his lap. Chuck rubbed its - her - belly. “So you’re gonna adopt her?” he asked, and then paused when he heard a whining sound from inside the soft pile. “Wait, did you say puppies?”

“Yeah, there’s, uh, four of them?” Yancy said. “Found them outside a week ago and at first we were each gonna take one, but Brad’s girlfriend said absolutely not and Sandy’s renting and they don’t allow dogs over twenty pounds, and...anyway, I’m gonna take them back.”

Yancy sat down next to him as another puppy emerged and ran towards him, tail wagging enthusiastically. “Hey buddy!” he said, and held the puppy close to his chest.

“You’re gonna adopt four stray puppies,” Chuck said. Just so he was clear.

“Yeah, I mean, you have one, what difference does three more make?” Yancy asked. “Plus the momma. She’s getting spayed right now though.”

“Five dogs?” Chuck said. The other two puppies had wiggled out and were nipping at each other, trying to get into Chuck’s lap. They were really cute, but-

No. Not his concern. “Yeah, so...I just need someone to finalize the paperwork for me cause I’ve got practice and then the game and then another game, so…”

“Oh,” Chuck said. “OK. But won’t you have to sign shit?”

Yancy waved his hand. “I filled out some paper authorizing you as my agent, so it’s cool,” he said. “I’d appreciate it.”

Chuck considered this, decided that the image of Yancy covered in four puppies was completely worth it, and nodded his head. “All right, sure,” he said, handing the puppy who had lost the battle for his lap to Yancy. “You got names for the little fuckers?”

“Yeah,” Yancy said. “I’ve been calling them all Raleigh.”

“Raleigh?” Chuck asked, trying to contain the snort and/or giggle that wanted to emerge.

Yancy grinned at him. “Yeah, Raleigh. Raleighs.”

* * *

It took all of an hour before it was all over the Internet, and Chuck cringed when he saw it. _Is Max not enough? Is Chuck Hansen replacing Max? Looks like Max is getting some new friends!_ Fuck my life, he thought. If anyone had taken the time to look at the paperwork - actually probably better that they hadn’t. Instead it was all just based on how he had gone to the pop-up vets clinic and paid some fees.

Like he would replace Max.

Max was awesome. Whole world knew that now. Max was probably going to get picked the carry the goddamn Australian flag in the closing ceremonies.

“You better not be taking one of those pups,” Herc said, as they walked to the hockey game. He looked down at Max. “Max would be devastated.” Max wiggled his tail, happy at all of the attention he was getting. Herc had put him in his copy of Chuck’s pompom hat. He was basically strutting, pom poms bouncing on his head.

“No, the dumbass is taking all of them,” Chuck said. “And the mum. Five dogs. And - he had me write Raleigh as the name for all of ‘em.”

Herc closed his eyes and shook his head. “He is a dumbass,” he said, but it was almost fond.

“Chuck!”

Chuck turned, and there was a reporter that he sort of recognized - American? Canadian? - in the crowd outside of the Bolshoy. “Hello,” he said.

“Is it true that you’re adopting another dog? Replacing poor Max?”

“No, I am not replacing Max,” he said. He turned, but Herc had started walking away, backwards, far enough that no one was going to try and rope him into the conversation but close enough that he could hear. “They’re not for me, they’re for Yancy.”

The reporter’s head turned slightly. “Yancy Becket?”

“Yeah,” Chuck said. “Met him in the athlete’s village, kind of busy right now, asked if I could help out.” He shrugged his shoulders and walked back to Herc and Max.

“You complete dumbass,” Herc said, and lightly smacked him on the bicep.

“What? Loads of people meet each other-”

“Everyone knows what goes on in the athlete’s village, Chuck.”

Chuck’s face reddened. “I have made a terrible mistake.” Herc grinned and laughed.


	7. Chapter 7

Raleigh groaned as one of the speedskaters kissed his neck while the other pulled his sweatpants down. This was, he was now ready to admit, a very good idea. “I - you guys don’t have to keep me at the center of things-”

“Shush,” said Pieter, as Thijs guided him down onto his back once he was naked. “We fuck each other all the time. You are special.”

 _Ah,_ Raleigh thought, and really, he should have known.

Then he stopped thinking when Pieter’s mouth was on cock, focused on the head, zeroing in on his most sensitive places. Thijs pinched at his nipples and lightly peppered his neck with kisses. They worked well together - the next thing Raleigh knew Thijs had shifted, still sucking his cock, and Pieter began to finger him. “Oh, fuck, fuck, guys - that’s so fucking good!”

“Mmm,” said Pieter. “You will fuck Thijs, yes?”

Raleigh groaned - last time Thijs had fucked him while he sucked Pieter off. “Yes, fuck, very yes!” he groaned, fingers spreading him apart while Pieter licked around the tip of his cock. “Shouldn’t I-”

“Already done,” Thijs said, and Raleigh groaned again as he put a condom on. Thijs laid on the bed, presenting his amazingly muscular, round ass to Raleigh - and Raleigh had to watch as he fucked him, slid his cock in, the way the speedskater’s muscles flexed around him. He thrust slowly as Pieter held his hips, arranging him, and then pressed hard into him.

“Oh, that is...that is so fucking good,” Raleigh said, overwhelmed by the sensation - his dick, surrounded by tight warmth, his ass, full and stretched. Pieter laughed and said something in Dutch, then lightly smacked his ass before he thrust again.

Raleigh let him establish the rhythm and just drifted along with it, pleasure almost completely overwhelming him until Pieter pulled back and went slow and deep. “So beautiful, Raleigh,” he murmured.

“Feels so good,” said Thijs. Then the thrusts went faster and Raleigh moaned, deep and guttural, his whole body hot and furious with need.

“I’m going to-”

“Ja, ja, Raleigh,” someone said.

“Me too.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Raleigh said, then went incoherent and fairly blind from his orgasm. _Olympics, woo,_ he thought.

* * *

“Uhoh,” said Pieter, looking at his phone. He showed it to Thijs, who nodded his head and looked at Raleigh. “Might want to see this, Raleigh.”

Raleigh set his Stella down and looked at the phone. “It’s in, uh, Dutch?” he said.

“Ah, yes,” said Pieter. He tapped his phone. “There.”

Raleigh looked at the story that had just been posted to some blog. “Ooh boy,” he said, and looked at his watch. Yancy would probably hear about it before the semifinal with Canada.

“Your attitudes, in the States, towards this, they are not..?”

“Well, no,” said Raleigh. “Also Yancy’s bi and no one can seem to comprehend that, like when the English diver came out? All our news media was like, Tom Daley is GAY!”

“He is very cute, the diver,” said Pieter. “But, yes.”

Raleigh shook his head - though there was part of him that thought that Yancy might sort of have had this coming. Still.

* * *

A thought occurred to Chuck as he watched the dejected U.S. hockey players shake hands with the Canadians. “What if he knew?” he said. “Those blog posts got up awful quick - even if no legitimate news is carrying it yet, and someone told him, and so he didn’t-”

“He’s just one player on a team,” Herc said, petting Max.

“Yeah, but he didn’t score any goals,” Chuck said.

“Neither did anyone else,” said Herc. He regarded Chuck curiously - he had been going on about how this thing was just an Olympics hook-up, like everyone else, except...Well.

Chuck bit at his lower lip, concerned.

* * *

“So many e-mails and interview requests!” said Yancy, waving his iPhone at Raleigh. “This is so perfect - out of the two of us, I turn out to be the gay one!”

“Uh,” said Raleigh and Mako at the same time.

“Well, you’re not going to go out and tell the world about the amicable threesome you’ve got going on with two hot Dutch dudes, are you?” Yancy asked. “You’re America’s little golden haired sweetheart. They love you like they love golden retrievers and apple pie.”

“This is true,” said Mako. “When we reveal we are not engaged I will be the slut who broke you beautiful, pure heart.” She grinned, apparently liking the image. “You are having a threesome with two Dutch dudes?”

“It just sort of happened,” Raleigh mumbled. Not really, but...plausible deniability. “Thijs invited me over to the Dutch House-”

“Oh, man, that is supposed to be the best place to party,” Yancy said, putting his head on hands and smiling at Raleigh. “C’mon, details, bro.”

“And...Thijs brought Pieter over, and we drank, and did some shots of something, and danced a bit, and...uh, YOLO?” Mako shook her head at him. Yancy just continued grinning. “You’re taking this surprisingly well,” Raleigh said. Sure, there was an out basketball player now and the NHL had a LGBTQ initiative, but no one had actually come out yet.

And that was before you even got to their defeat that night - but Raleigh assumed Yancy had done what he always did, which was find a quiet place and scream for some time. Then he moved on. It seemed to work as complete catharsis for him, and if he wasn’t able to bash something up he was in a disagreeable mood until he could

“Dude,” said Yancy. “I already got traded to Winnipeg. It cannot get any worse.”

“Buffalo,” said Raleigh and Mako together.

Yancy frowned. “Weather’s better,” he said, and shrugged. “Also, wings.”

Mako looked at Raleigh and he shrugged.

“Have either of you seen Chuck, by the way? He didn’t go back to Australia or something, did he?”

Raleigh shook his head.

Mako nodded. “He is still here. They say he, Max and Herc will carry the flag for Australia.”

“Aw, Max,” said Yancy.

* * *

_Where is he hiding?_ Yancy had texted before the bronze medal game.

 _I think he thinks u r mad,_ Raleigh replied.

 _Mad cause I don’t get to fuck his hot ass_ , Yancy wrote back.

Raleigh sighed. “You ready?” he asked Mako, who had just rushed back from Hu’s room to put some make-up on.

“Mmm,” she said. “Your scarf looks strange,” she added, and took Raleigh’s USA scarf off and relooped it around for him. Then she shook her head. “A threesome?”

“I’m pretty good looking, you know,” Raleigh said, and grinned at her.

“Chuck! Are you going to the game?” Mako asked. Raleigh turned and grinned at Chuck, walking with Max.

“Uh, no,” he said. “Just gonna watch it from here. Want a little downtime before tomorrow, you know?” He scratched at the back of his neck and grimaced at Raleigh.

Raleigh tried to formulate what to say but, as he spoke, Chuck took off. He closed his door quickly on the other side of the hall and Max barked. “Those two,” Raleigh said, and, again, was a little bit at a loss for words.

“Yes,” said Mako. “Very, very stupid.”

* * *

Raleigh may have reached over and gripped Mako’s hand when the game against Finland went into a shootout. “I can’t handle it,” said Raleigh.

“Yes, I know,” said Mako. She clutched his hand back. “Someone will take a picture of this. Just when they have forgot..”

“I need the support,” Raleigh replied, as the first Finnish player skated up to the goalie, deked and took a shot at the five hole. The siren went off. “Balls! Oh, that’s Yancy’s friend!”

“I know, Raleigh,” Mako said, and she squeezed his hand.

He watched as Brad Monahan moved in on the Finnish goalie and quickly shot the puck, almost directly into his glove hand. Mako’s grip tightened on Raleigh’s hand, almost to the point where it hurt and or was going to cut out circulation. “Nooooo! Monahan, why? You fucking idiot!”

“That’s my son!” said a woman behind Raleigh.

“Oh, hey, sorry,” he said, turning. “I’m Yancy’s-”

“Oh, you’re Raleigh, aren’t you?” she said. “You two were so beautiful on the ice, you know-” Half the crowd groaned, and Raleigh looked over to see that Finland had missed, “-and I think you should have won the gold, even with that bobble.”

“Thank you,” said Mako. Half the crowd cheered. “Yes!” Mako said, and then looked a little embarrassed. “It is for a medal.”

“Yes, dear,” said Mrs. Monahan. Raleigh turned back around for another Finnish goal.

Yancy skated off the bench. “Oh fuck my life,” Raleigh said. This was something a little primal screaming wasn’t going to fix. He took his hand back from Mako and closed his eyes, only opening them when she smacked his knee. He watched as Yancy lifted his stick and skated back to the bench. “Oh, no, they’re gonna use him for sudden death-”

Mako held her breath. Fortunately, she did not have to hold it for long. The Finnish player missed his shot. Only some pressure, then, Raleigh thought, but Yancy slid the puck around the goalie like it was easy. Raleigh immediately stood, almost knocking Mako in the head, and then hugged her as the U.S. players all poured out of the bench to hug one another.

“Now this,” Mako said. “This should be a good party.”

“Well, they were hoping for gold,” Raleigh said. “But…”

“Pppffp,” said Mako. “That means they had an awful lot of beer stored up.”

Raleigh nodded.

* * *

“How does it feel, scoring the game winning goal like that, Yancy?” asked the NBC rink side reporter.

“Amazing,” said Yancy. “I didn’t think I’d get tapped for the shoot out to begin with, it’s not my speciality, but coach tapped me for it, so...and with Reinikainen playing the game like he did, I was nervous, so...just really great.”

“You came into these Olympics expecting a gold medal - how do you feel about the bronze?”

“With all the talent each team has - and how hard some of them played, Latvia, Switzerland, these new guys to the game...just getting a medal is a huge accomplishment.”

“And we hear you’re adopting some puppies?”

“And their mum, yeah, absolutely adorable,” Yancy said. “They’ve been roaming around our practice rink and I just immediately fell in love.”

“Thanks, Yancy,” said the reporter and she had a sly grin on her face.

* * *

“He’s got to be around here somewhere,” Yancy said, tugging Mako and Raleigh through the throng of athletes towards the Australian contingent. “Just look for a crowd around that fucking dog.”

“Remind me where we are assisting again?” Mako asked Raleigh.

“You want to have the camera zoom in on your ring, some reporter asked when we’ve set the date?” Raleigh said, as they wove through some Germans. A hand clapped on his shoulder, then, and he lost Yancy.

“Becket! I think you should say thank you, da?” said Sasha, grinning at him.

“Absolutely, very much so,” Raleigh said. “Definitely, uh, a good end to things.” _If you are ever in Amsterdam, Raleigh, you should give us a call,_ Thijs had said, and had programmed his phone number into Raleigh’s phone when he wasn’t looking. Hot Dutch Ass, it said.

“We are assisting Yancy,” said Mako.

“Ah, young love,” said Sasha, and then said something in Russian to her companion, who nodded her head and responded. “He should make a romantic gesture. Hansen is very hot.”

“Yes,” said Raleigh. “I agree.”

By the time they caught up to Yancy he was next to Chuck and waving his hands, apparently arguing with him about something. Presumably Chuck's disappearing act.

“Oh, no,” Mako said, and pointed.

A camera filming Max turned its attention to Yancy and Chuck.

It happened seemingly in slow motion - Yancy, putting his hand on Chuck’s jaw. Yancy leaning in closer to Chuck. Yancy kissing Chuck, a long, deep kiss that likely involved a significant amount of tongue.

“Fuck,” Raleigh said.

“No,” said Mako. “That is really sweet.”

When Yancy pulled away Chuck blushed and then both of them grinned at the camera in front of them and waved.

“We’re on a time delay,” said Raleigh. “There will be time for all sorts of fucking commentary, and…”

“Oh, well, yes,” said Mako.

"Hey, Raleigh," said Herc, waving his hand. "Mako." 

"Oh, hey," Raleigh said. Did Herc have something he wanted to say - Raleigh was not fucking responsible. He reached down and pet Max, who had on another little matching uniform and seemed more than thrilled. 

A blonde woman in a Swedish outfit was soon at Herc's side, smiling as she wrapped her arm around his waist. "Kamilla, Raleigh Becket and Mako Mori."

"Yes, very nice to meet you," she said. 

"Have you seen Stacker, Mako?" Herc asked. "Wandered off with the rest of Kamilla's cross country relay team." 

Mako actually blushed, which was cute. "I have not," she said. Herc nodded.

"Sorry, Rals, we gotta take Max and find him," Herc said. "Last time I lost him at an Olympics..." he shook his head as he and Kamilla walked off.

* * *

“You’re going back to America with five fucking dogs,” Chuck said, as they walked back to the Olympic Village.

“No,” said Yancy. “I play in Winnipeg. In Manitoba.” Chuck blinked at him. “Canada.”

“Oh,” said Chuck, and scratched at the back of his neck. “I’m gonna be training in Banff, actually, in Alberta.”

“Right,” Yancy said. He looked at Chuck and gave him a slight grin. Neither said anything for some time.

“Might come and play with the Raleighs,” Chuck said, finally, and scowled at having to be the one to break.

“You are their step-father,” Yancy said.

“Fuck, you,” Chuck said. “But, yeah, I could drive over.”

“For a weekend?”

“Yeah, for a weekend-”

“It’s a fourteen hour drive,” Yancy said.

“From outside of Calgary to Winnipeg? Isn’t Manitoba next to it?”

“Saskatchewan,” Yancy said.

“What?” Chuck replied, then, “Fine.”

Yancy opened the door to their dorm, feeling a bit melancholy - it would be his last night in the village. Chuck leaned in and kissed him.

“The Raleighs would like it,” Yancy said. “They like you.”


End file.
